The Unlikely Couple
by Mango Schmango
Summary: C/S. Bred in a world of artifice and deception, Chuck needed someone who was real, lively and free of all that he hated about society, a bright light. That someone was Serena. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**The Unlikely Couple**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Gossip Girl**

No one expected Chuck and Serena to get together.

If someone had asked Chuck Bass one year ago what he thought of Serena, he would have smirked and drawled that Little Miss Sunshine was a little too Mother Teresa for his taste. Serena Van der Woodsen, if asked the same question, would have shuddered and said that even if Chuck Bass was the last man on earth and for the sake of mankind's existence she had to procreate with him, she would prefer to live a solitary existence in a cave.

However, everything changed in senior year.

Chuck idly regarded the flecks of gold that reflected off the whisky as he swirled a glass under the lamplight before consuming it and savouring the fluid sensation that ebbed down his throat leisurely.

"At the Scotch again, Chuck?" came a soft voice from his doorway.

Chuck's head shot up and saw the slim figure of his stepsister Serena leaning against the doorway with her long gold hair cascading down her shoulders like a silky vale.

"A gentleman must have a hobby," Chuck drawled, raising his glass to Serena in a mock toast.

"I would hardly call you a gentleman, Chuck."

Chuck laughed humourlessly. "That is the general consensus amongst our dear Upper East Siders."

Serena stepped into his room and gracefully perched herself on the edge of his bed, her blue eyes appraising him.

"If I was more sober, Van der Woodsen—or should I say Bass, considering we're now officially step-brother and sister—I would proposition you in a shameless manner followed by mind-blowing sex on my bed. But since I'm completely intoxicated, I'm going to be impossibly virtuous and ask what's with the _sisterly _concern tonight?"

The corners of her lips twitched and Chuck wasn't sure if she was fighting back a smile or a grimace.

"Chuck, I know you're upset about Blair and Nate getting back together, but drinking is not going to help you deal with the situation. I of all people should know that."

Chuck snorted derisively.

Serena edged closer to him and pulled the Scotch bottle from his grasp. "I'm serious, Chuck. No one is worth tearing your liver to shreds with booze."

Chuck did not bother fighting to reclaim his Scotch. Feeling defeated, he flopped back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes widened in surprise when Serena lay down beside him, tucking her hands behind her head and crossing her ankles together. The two lay side-by-side in silence for an indeterminate amount of time.

"Your bed's surprisingly comfortable," Serena said, breaking the silence.

"So I've been told," Chuck replied, a touch of his old smugness creeping back into his voice.

"_Eww_, Chuck."

A smile almost flittered across his face and then it faded, as he thought of Blair who had been the last one to share his bed—and if the truth be told, the _only_ one he wanted to share his bed for the rest of his life. But it was not to be. Her white knight, Nathaniel-fucking-Archibald, swooped in on his great white charger horse and swept her off his feet with a Tiffany's diamond bracelet and spouting words of eternal devotion and love that sounded as if he had ripped it off from Sir Walter Scott or Elizabeth Browning.

"You know there are other people in the world besides Blair. You're in high school and there will be, God forbid, another woman who will love you and all your—uh, _attributes_."

"How comforting."

"_Chuck_."

Chuck sighed. "I really thought Blair was _the_ one. It sounds absolutely pathetic but I really thought that I would be married to Blair one day. She understood me and could match me in everything."

"Wow…Chuck, I-I…_wow_. I never knew you felt that strongly about her."

"Van der Woodsen speechless. That's something you don't see every day."

Serena rolled her eyes and the mattress moved as she turned on her side so that she was facing Chuck. Her blue eyes were full of compassion. "I never thought I'd say this…but I'm really sorry that things didn't work out the way you wanted to."

Chuck shrugged. "Blair and I weren't like you and Brooklyn Boy. You two are the stuff of fucking fairytales. You're the blond princess and he's your bloody Lancelot."

"You not only have feelings but you're also learned in Celtic mythology."

"Don't push it, Van der Woodsen."

Serena smirked and in one fluid movement, got off the bed. As she headed to the door, Chuck said, "Van der Woodsen?"

She turned to face him. "I'm not going to have sympathy sex with you."

For the first time in three weeks, Chuck grinned, albeit mockingly. "I would _never dare_ to go that low. I do have some morals, you know."

Chuck saw with some satisfaction that Serena was fighting to keep a straight face.

"What I wanted to say," Chuck continued, "was _thanks_."

"Did I just hear Chuck Bass say thank-you?"

"If you tell anyone, I shall have to kill you."

Serena laughed. "Your secret is safe with me."

Four weeks later, Chuck was about to watch Donald Trump's _The Apprentice_, when he heard a low sob come from the bathroom. At first he thought it was the Botox-ridden lady on the floor below who cried daily into her bottle of tequila and sleeping pill cocktail, but when another sob erupted that was distinctly louder and definitively came from the bathroom, Chuck, feeling charitable, got off the Italian leather couch and gently pulled open the door.

There was Serena in a foetal position by the sink, crying.

Serena looked up, mascara running down her cheeks and her hair wet with her tears. "Go away, Chuck," she choked.

"Charming," Chuck replied, sitting down beside her and casually leaning back against the marble and gold plated sink.

"Leave me alone!"

Chuck didn't respond. Instead, he reached up, grabbed the tissue box and silently handed her a tissue.

Something indiscernible flashed across Serena's face and she accepted the tissue without further comment and blew her nose in a rather unattractive fashion. Seemingly without his own volition, Chuck found himself reaching over to her and pulling her damp hair off her face into a messy twist with a hair tie that was lying lonesomely on the tiles. Something between a choked laugh and a sob came from Serena at Chuck's actions.

"Thanks," she hiccupped.

"Anytime. You know that I don't like seeing my step-sister looking like she's been dragged behind a tractor for three weeks."

Serena blew her nose again and Chuck could have sworn that a sliver of a smile appeared on her face.

"Dan cheated on me with Vanessa!" Serena suddenly blurted out and turned her large Pacific Ocean eyes to Chuck, who found himself momentarily struck by the plain anguish that shone in them.

"Brooklyn Boy cheated on you with Wal-Mart Wanker?"

"Yes. Apparently he's in love with her."

"What's wrong with that fuckwit? He's got _you_—the golden haired toast of New York, yet he goes for a girl who appears as if she's raided the nearest charity shop. Are you sure Brooklyn Boy wasn't high on something when he broke things off with you?"

"I wish."

"Would you like me to do something wonderfully underhand to him? Make his life hell? Get him expelled? Post some malicious lie on Gossip Girl and then—"

"No! No! Don't do anything of the sort."

"Geez! Take a horse tranquilizer, Van der Woodsen. I won't do anything unless you ask me to…though I kinda miss the Pre-Boarding School Serena who would not have hesitated doing that kind of thing."

"If I was Pre-Boarding School Serena, I would most likely be drunk up to my eyeballs and unable to form any coherent speech."

"And all the boys who like to take advantage of inebriated girls are still mourning that fact."

"You're disgusting."

"And proud of it."

Chuck tipped his head on the side appraisingly. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?"

"I don't feel in the mood for amorous activities, Chuck."

"Get your head out of the gutter, Van der Woodsen. I was actually being genuinely sincere."

Serena's eyes softened. "Who would have thought things have come to this? You and I in a bathroom together just talking together. In my perfect world, I'd still be with Dan and you'd be with Blair."

"It's a fucked up world, Van der Woodsen."

Serena lightly touched his arm. "Actually…I'm not sure whether it's just post-break up trauma, but its _nice_ sitting here with you."

"You must have severe post-break up trauma to say that. If it's any consolation, you can do so much better than Brooklyn Boy. I wouldn't waste a minute longer on a guy who chooses Brooklyn trash over you."

"It _must _be a fucked up world, Chuck, if _you_ of all people are giving me relationship advice."

Chuck smirked. "I have hidden depths."

Serena rolled her eyes, but she was smiling and Chuck realised that he had probably never seen a more beautiful sight. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara, her eyes were puffy and her hair was damp, but she was _smiling_, and Chuck knew that she was going to survive. And somehow by looking at her, Chuck felt that he could regain his life again and find some semblance of normality.

* * *

After that night, awkwardness settled over Chuck and Serena. They felt as if they were balancing on the edge of some new unknown territory and they had no idea on what to do. Should they retain the old enmity and sniping? Or should they move forward and be civil? Unconsciously, the pair decided to settle in the middle of the two extremes and alternated from treating each other as if they were diseases to lying comfortably on the couch sharing a bottle of Scotch or a box of Belgium chocolates whilst watching DVDs.

Lily Bass watched the new developments with some relief, thinking that at last, the Bass-Van der Woodsen family was going to meld and behave like any other normal family. Eric, on the other hand, was apprehensive and trusted Chuck about as much as he would with a man holding a machete and mustard gas. Bart was indifferent and merely nodded banally whenever Lily mentioned the subject.

At Serena's behest, Chuck even started to socialise with Blair and Nate again. Though, Chuck said that Serena always had to accompany him because he did not want to be the third wheel and watch Blair and Nate practically suck each other's faces off. Serena agreed to Chuck's conditions, because she felt, oddly enough, a need to protect him.

* * *

September rolled around and it was the annual Costume Ball for charity. This year, it was chaired by Lily, much to Serena's chagrin, as her mother made her run various errands and hang around the ballroom bored out of her mind at the tedious arrangements ("Do you think gold and silver would send the wrong message?" "Do you think chicken salad is a bit too cheap looking?" etc. etc.) And at the end of each long day, Chuck would always be lounging lazily by the bar and hand her a martini and for some perverse reason that Serena refused to contemplate, she actually looked forward to these moments they spent together.

* * *

Blair had helped Serena pick out her costume (to be honest, Blair took complete control and Serena merely nodded obediently as Blair thrust the purchases into her hands) and insisted that she come over to the Penthouse so the both of them could get ready together for the ball. 

"Are you sure you want to come over, because Chuck is going to be there." Serena asked as they rode the elevator to the suite the Van der Woodsen-Bass family shared.

"I really don't care. Bass and I are past history. I'm with Nate now," Blair said haughtily, though Serena could detect a forced casualness in Blair's demeanour.

The elevator slid open with a 'bing' and the girls entered the apartment.

"Well, well, Waldorf. Welcome to our humble abode. I'm surprised Nathaniel let you off his tight leash," Chuck drawled, taking a swig of champagne.

"It's a bit early for drinking, isn't it, Bass?" Blair snapped.

"Just getting warmed up for the party, princess."

"Would you two cut it out?" Serena said exasperatedly as she practically manhandled Blair to her room.

"I'm surprised you even can stay in the same room with that sexual predator," Blair said in a deliberately loud voice that Chuck was obviously meant to hear.

"I didn't hear you complaining six months ago, Waldorf!" Chuck called from the other room.

Blair slammed Serena's door shut in response.

"You two are so immature," Serena said. "Ignore him and let's get ready for tonight."

While the two girls were getting ready, the doorbell rang again. Chuck swung open the door and was surprised to see Nathaniel standing awkwardly there.

"Don't worry about Waldorf, Nathaniel. Her virtue is being assiduously guarded by Serena."

"Chuck, don't be an ass," Nate said tetchily.

It was only then that Chuck realised what Nate was dressed as and Chuck could not restrain a smirk. Nate was dressed as a Tudor courtier, complete with pantaloons, tights and jewelled doublet and a cap with a floppy feather.

"Don't. Say. A. Word," Nate warned, flushing a deep red. "It wasn't my choice."

"Waldorf's eh?"

Nate nodded sourly and Chuck shooed him in.

"What are you going dressed as?" Nate asked, accepting a Scotch from Chuck and downing it quickly.

"James Bond."

"Figures."

"At least my costume doesn't include shiny white tights and a campy feather on my hat," Chuck smugly replied.

"Fill up my glass again," Nate commanded.

"Can't face the ball sober?"

"Shut up. Just give me another drink."

Chuck grinned and complied with Nate's request.

Almost two hours later, the girls emerged from the bathroom and Chuck nearly choked on his martini when he saw Serena. She was…he could not think of a single adjective that would do her justice…even the word beautiful seemed trite.

Serena was dressed as a Grecian goddess. Her hair was pulled off her neck in a messy bun with curly strands falling gracefully around her face. She shone with bronzed glitter and a serpentine gold bracelet with diamonds was wound around her upper arm. Her slim figure was swathed in a brilliant white one-shoulder gown that clung to her upper body then flared out at the hips so it appeared that she was bathed in white mist. Her make-up was simple, in bronze and champagne colours with a dash of coral-coloured lip gloss.

Chuck slyly glanced out the corner of his eye at Nate who appeared just as dumbstruck and riveted by Serena.

"I'm sure Brooklyn Boy will get the shock of his life when he sees what he's missing out on," Chuck said appreciatively.

Serena smiled winningly at him and Chuck was surprised to see a faint blush staining her cheeks. Was Serena actually blushing at his compliment? Chuck thought incredulously. He couldn't restrain himself from staring at her and from all appearances, neither could she.

A loud, indignant cough severed their eye contact. It was Blair who had come into the room after Serena.

"So what do you think, Nate?" Blair asked, twirling around, pouting.

"L-l-looks beautiful, Blair," Nate stammered.

Chuck realised as he watched Blair who was dressed as a medieval princess in a blood red gown and decked out diamonds, that for the first time he did not feel a pang of regret nor did he feel jealousy when Blair covertly eyed him as she lingeringly kissed Nate.

And when he glanced again at Serena who ducked her head when she met his gaze, he knew why.

The ball passed in a blur for Chuck. He observed with some malign satisfaction the priceless look on Brooklyn Boy's face when Serena descended the stairs behind Lily and Bart. He disregarded Blair's attempts to make him jealous. He chatted pleasantly enough with Nate when Blair was not hanging off Nate. He flirted shamelessly with Kati and Isabel and every other nameless girl that crossed him. And in between all of that, he sought Serena through the crowd and when he spotted her, she would turn to face him as if the two of them were pulled together by some magnet and they would share an intense gaze before they'd both turn away and continue whatever they were doing like they were strangers to each other.

* * *

Chuck shrugged out of his Armani dinner jacket and tossed it carelessly on his desk chair. The party was still raging downstairs but he had had enough and wanted to get away from the stifling atmosphere. Normally he would be down there partying hard until the early hours of the morning but tonight he was not in the mood for it. 

He tiredly went to his mini bar and poured himself a Moet champagne as someone (most likely his 'dear' dad) had swiped all the good stuff and then kicked back on the couch.

Not long after, the door creaked open and Serena entered. The two then held unwavering eye contact for an indeterminate amount of time and Chuck resisted the urge to just kiss her senseless and feel her warm limbs wrapped around him.

"Got sick of showing off to Fuckwit Humphreys?" Chuck finally asked, breaking the tension.

Serena sighed. "Something like that."

"Moet?"

"I'll drink it from the bottle."

"Classy," Chuck dryly commented, raising an eyebrow but not questioning her as he passed her the bottle and she took a great gulp.

"Vanessa looked gorgeous," Serena said bleakly, kicking off her Jimmy Choo strappy heels and flopping down beside him on the couch.

"You've got to be joking. Her gown was hideous and her eye make-up left a lot to be desired."

"You're just being nice."

"Me being _nice_?"

Serena's lips twitched. "Good point."

The two sat in silence for sometime and Chuck stiffened but then relaxed as he felt Serena rest her head on his shoulder. He tentatively brushed her hand with his and was pleased when she encased his hand within hers, revelling in this close contact. Chuck twisted around so that he was facing her. "You looked hot tonight, Van der Woodsen. In fact more than hot—incredibly and mind blowingly gorgeous," he said softly, his spare hand stroking her hair.

A shiver ran through him as he felt her warm lips pressing against his throat. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all night," she breathed.

"Me neither."

"Everything's changed so much. You…me…"

"I know, I know," Chuck said hoarsely, his eyes lingering on her full lips.

"_Chuck_…" Serena whispered, leaning in so painfully close to him.

The almost breathless plea in her voice broke his self control and he kissed her hard. Her body was ready for it, and when he pinned her down underneath him, she struggled softly, but in a way that showed she didn't want to win, as she arched her body against his and ran her hands down his back and then under his shirt, feeling his warm, bare skin. A low groan escaped his throat as he pulled her hands behind his head and her fingers weaved tightly into his hair. They gripped hard, and he bit her lip in return, causing her to moan softly and arch her body shamelessly against him.

* * *

Blair impatiently waited for the elevator door to open, annoyed that Serena hadn't replied to any of her text messages. She had seen Serena go up earlier but didn't follow her as she had assumed that she was going to freshen up but after one hour, Blair decided to check up on her, hoping that she wasn't crying over that loser Humphrey and that Brooklyn bitch Vanessa. 

She cautiously opened the door to the apartment so as not to startle Serena but no one was in the living room. She could hear a low murmur and then some rustling from the direction of Serena's room. She soundlessly pushed open the door and her breath stopped in her throat when she saw her leggy best friend entwined with her ex-sometime-boyfriend Chuck. A breathy sigh from Serena shook Blair from her numbed state and she quickly left the pair, her stomach twisting and it was only when she left the apartment that she was assailed by the irony of the situation: Serena had found Blair in exactly the same position two years ago at her seventeenth birthday and now…Blair wanted to be ill and was filled with what she refused to identify as jealousy.

**I hope you all enjoyed it! This will be a 2-parter and the 2****nd**** part will be posted in the next week or so. Please review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Gossip Girl. **

"So what do you think?" Serena purred, tying Chuck's red Chinese silk robe with gold stitching around her.

"It definitely looks better on you," Chuck drawled, tucking his hands behind his head and leaning against his fluffed-up pillow. "Red was never my colour."

Serena smiled and pulled her hair back into a messy twist at the nape of her neck. "I'm assuming that all your past conquests have tried this exact dressing gown on?"

"Actually, you're the first one."

"You're kidding," Serena said, the playfulness draining from her face.

Chuck merely looked steadily at her.

"You're telling the truth," Serena softly stated, her eyes deepening into an infinite crystal blue abyss. "You're telling the truth," she repeated, almost to herself as if she could not believe it.

Chuck nodded slowly and held out his arms.

Serena lithely sprang onto the bed and draped herself sinuously over Chuck. "What are we doing?" she murmured, stroking his face.

"No fucking idea," Chuck said lazily, his hands slipping under the Chinese robe and avidly enfolding her body. "I think we'll just have to roll along with it."

"I'm more than happy to…_roll along_," Serena breathed, a slow grin spreading over her face that Chuck found incredibly sexy.

"Good," replied Chuck, smirking.

Serena pressed her fingers over his mouth. "Shh, no more talk, Bass."

And Chuck wholeheartedly complied.

* * *

Sometime much later, a panting, breathless and sweaty couple rolled away from each other with identical grins on their faces.

"Well I've never done that before," Serena said frankly, languorously stretching her body out as Chuck kissed her damp forehead.

"Impressive, no?" Chuck asked smugly.

Serena rolled her eyes but still nestled her body against his, tracing lazy circles on his chest. So content did she feel that she did not even bother to protest when Chuck lit a cigarette whilst he gently ran his fingers through her hair. Serena's eyes slipped closed at his tender ministrations and thought that there was no other place that she wanted to be than right here with him.

* * *

Lily and Bart had dropped off home briefly at eight o'clock to pick up a bottle of wine and Chuck and Serena were by that time sitting chastely on the couch watching _How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days_.

"God, this film is crap!" Chuck complained.

"It's so romantic," Serena retorted.

"Charles, can you stop bickering with Serena for fifteen minutes?" Bart admonished.

"Sorry, dad," Chuck mumbled and Bart was placated. Lily, however, did not miss the complicit glance that her daughter and step-son shared and pondered the significance of it. And as she and Bart were departing, she could have sworn that she heard a low giggle.

As soon as their respective parents had exited, Chuck had flipped her under him and he was playfully nibbling at her neck, kissing her lips, the hollow of her throat…

"Chuck, stop!" Serena gasped, trying to recapture her breath.

Chuck chuckled lowly. "You don't want me to."

And it was true, the way her fingers threaded through his hair and the way her body arched against his and the way her lips searched his out, but there was something she had to say to him before she lost control of all her senses.

"Chuck, _please _stop. We have to talk."

At that, Chuck's head snapped up and he removed his body from hers. He regarded her coolly.

Serena took his hand in hers.

"I don't want us to be secret," Serena said plainly. "I want us to be a normal couple."

Chuck's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You actually want to tell people that you're dating the heinous Chuck Bass?"

"Yes," Serena responded simply, "I do."

"You wouldn't be ashamed of being seen with me?" Chuck bluntly asked.

"No. I wouldn't be asking to make our relationship public if I was ashamed of you. You've changed but somehow not changed…I can't explain it…and I want to see where this _thing _between us goes…"

Chuck was now gazing at her with such marked intensity that Serena shivered. "Serena…I-I-well, I've never been with a woman who wants more than a quick fuck, in fact I've never been with a woman that I want to have anything more than a quick f—"

"What about Blair?" Serena quietly asked, her eyes never leaving his.

Chuck laughed harshly. "Blair never wanted anything else than just a fuck buddy while Nathaniel was out of favour."

Serena flinched at Chuck's crude comment about her best friend but quickly regained her composure. "You haven't answered my question," she calmly repeated, her thumb gently rubbing his palm.

Chuck dropped his gaze to where their hands were entwined. "Yes…I wanted more with her than just a few covert assignations in my room but she didn't."

"And now?"

Chuck's eyes met hers. "And now I want you. Only you."

* * *

"I know about you and Bass," Blair snapped. "How could you?"

Serena gaped, her mental faculties briefly deserting her. "What?"

"I saw the two of you two nights ago at the Costume Ball going at it in his room. Geez, S, couldn't you have a bit more class?"

"B, it's not as sordid as you think it is."

"Anything to do with Bass is sordid," Blair retorted, flinging shut her Italian design wardrobe door violently.

"B, calm down," Serena pleaded.

"I will not! You stole Nate from me and now you steal Chuck? What is it with you that makes you zero in on guys I like?"

"Steal Chuck? I did nothing of the sort! You had broken up with him to be with Nate. You have no ownership over him," Serena retorted, her cheeks flushing.

Blair clenched her fists. "You're a back stabbing and lying bitch, S."

"B!" Serena exclaimed, tears springing into her eyes.

"Don't deny it. You just hide it better than I do behind that golden veneer of yours with your big blue eyes and sparkling smile."

"B…please listen to me—"

"Anyway, I hope you're happy because Chuck is only with you because he can't have me. You're just a replacement for me. He's just using you to make me jealous."

Serena's resolute look faltered for a moment and Blair knew she had struck a nerve.

"You know it as well as I do, S. If I hadn't had left him, he wouldn't have given you the time of day."

At that, Serena grabbed up her Prada handbag, her whole body trembling. "I will not stand here and be abused by you, Blair. You decided that you wanted to be with Nate—that had nothing to do with me. I thought you'd at least be happy for me, considering everything I've been through with Dan. Chuck is not using me, he _cares_ about me, B, and that means _everything_ to me."

Blair snorted. "You and Chuck seem to have stepped out from _Cruel Intentions _or something."

Serena flushed deeply. "Real mature, B. I came here today to tell you first, before anyone else, even my family that I'm with Chuck and this is how you react. You're with Nate, B. You can't have it both ways. When you're more civil, give me a call and we can talk about this."

"Just remember, S, Chuck is only using you as a replacement for me," Blair sneered.

At Blair's remark, Serena left Blair standing in the middle of her room in a blur of perfectly styled blond hair, Coco Chanel Mademoiselle and gold jewellery. Once Serena left, Blair's cold demeanour collapsed and she sagged onto her bed, willing tears not to well up in her eyes.

* * *

Chuck came back to his apartment in an extremely good mood. He had just returned from Nate's house (their friendship back on track again) and had purchased for Serena her favourite Belgian chocolates and Moet champagne. He felt so elated that he probably would have whistled had he been in a low-brow sitcom. In fact, so disgustingly everything-is-so-golden-and-the-world-is-ever-so-grand happy did he feel, that he at that moment would have gladly decided to donate all his revenues to a charity for children.

The fact that Serena wanted to be with him and make their relationship public, never failed to awe him. He opened the door to their apartment jauntily and he grinned when he saw Serena's trademark cream leather jacket flung carelessly on the couch. "Hey Serena, I come bearing gifts," he called.

His smile slowly faded when no response came.

"Serena, are you deaf or do you just have selective hearing?" Chuck drawled.

No response.

Puzzled now, Chuck pushed open Serena's door and found her sitting motionlessly on her bed with her hair falling around her face like an impenetrable curtain.

He sat down next to her on the bed and placed his hand on her shoulder and his expression soured when she pulled away from him. "Don't touch me," she said in a low voice.

"_Excuse me_?"

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"And what truth is that, Van der Woodsen?" Chuck asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Serena pushed her hair back and faced him squarely. Her eyes were suspiciously watery. "I've been to Blair's—"

"I should've known it was her. What poison did she spout this time?"

"I want to know whether I'm just a replacement for Blair."

"How can you even ask that question? Do you have so little faith in me that you are immediately swayed by her opinion?"

"I have to know, Chuck. I have to know that you feel the same way that I feel about you. I don't want to be used as a leftover of Blair Waldorf."

With an intensity that Serena had never witnessed before in Chuck, he pulled her flush against him and she didn't have the energy to fight him. "I am not using you, Serena. I _need_ you. I need your warmth, your smile, your _light_. Without you, I see myself becoming like my father—an empty machine. Everywhere around me is tainted with artifice except_ you_—you are honest …you are _everything_ to me, and I will spend every day of my life trying to prove my words to you so that you will never doubt my words again…" he broke off, breathing heavily.

Serena pulled back to study him. She saw the aching vulnerability that was a rare trait in a Bass. She had seen him at his best and his worst and she knew that he was not lying to her. His mocha eyes werefixed on her—_burning_ _into_ her. He had been stripped of all his arrogance and here he was in front of her, baring his deepest thoughts to her that she was sure he had never uttered to anyone—not even Blair. Under his gaze, all her insecurities about him evaporated and the insipidness of Nate and Dan paled against the fervour of Chuck.

"_Chuck_."

A soft smile crept over her face and she gently trailed her hand down his face. He captured her hand in his and held it against his face with a kiss.

"I believe you," she whispered. "I need you, too."

And that was when she knew everything was going to be alright. They were going to make it work.

**I hope you all enjoyed part 2! I'm going to post a little epilogue in a couple of days in order to resolve a few more things and show how I though their lives would happen together. Please review!**

**Mango Schmango ******


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Gossip Girl. I'm just showing my appreciation for it. **

* * *

As expected, Gossip Girl went haywire when Chuck and Serena went public with their relationship. For three weeks, Upper East Siders were treated to detailed accounts of Chuck and Serena's every move: shopping, coffee at Starbucks, Belgium chocolate shopping or dancing indecently close at society gatherings.

Bart only had one comment to Chuck: "If you make me look bad in front of Lily, I will personally ruin you." Chuck merely smirked and thanked him for the fatherly advice.

Lily was kinder but Chuck caught her on occasions looking covertly at him with apprehension. Eric had no tact, and had threatened bodily harm and called him a dirty pervert and sleaze bag. At that, it had taken all Chuck's restraint from swinging a punch at Eric. He knew how much Serena doted on Eric and it was only picturing her disappointed and horrified face if he had laid a hand on her brother that prevented him from doing so.

Blair was openly hostile towards Chuck, though to Serena she was sugary sweet. Nate had punched Chuck in the face when he heard the news.

Chuck now knew what love was, if he was prepared to face all this hostility and animosity just for Serena's sake.

As cliché and cheesy as it sounded (and he would never voice this to anyone) whenever he was with Serena, he felt as if he was a completely different man. Her love of life, vivacity and goodness were contagious and he could never feel other than optimistic when he was with her. The fact that she wanted to be with him never failed to awe him.

All the whispers, nudges and hostility made the time with her all the sweeter. It gave him some satisfaction to see her castigate Nate sharply for punching him and calling him a pathetic lout.

* * *

Two months later, Chuck caught Lily fucking Rufus Humphrey on the Viennese carpet in the Bass Penthouse.

"Please don't tell Bart, Chuck," Lily pleaded, buttoning up her blouse while a red-faced Rufus was fumbling around for his pants.

"I'm no moral compass, Lily, and I'm in no position to judge you, but you have to understand that I won't allow my father to be made a cuckold. You have to tell him Lily, or I will."

"But you don't even get along with your father…he doesn't even have to know…" Rufus chimed in.

Chuck glanced contemptuously at Rufus. "My relationship with my father is none of your business, Humphrey. He is my father and with that tie comes certain obligations and one of them is notifying my father that his wife is fucking another man on our Viennese carpet."

Both Lily and Rufus flinched at Chuck's crudity.

Lily looked defeated and insisted that she would tell Bart herself. Chuck felt like he would throw up when Rufus kissed a tearful Lily and hugged her, saying tritely that everything was going to be alright.

At that, Chuck said that if Rufus did not leave immediately, he would call security and have him thrown out on his backside. Rufus fired up at that and would have lunged at Chuck if Lily had not intervened and told Rufus to leave. Rufus reluctantly agreed but only after pulling Lily to him for a lingering kiss.

Just as Rufus walking down the hallway, Chuck called after him, "I would have thought you'd have had more class than to do my stepmother on the rug—oh but wait, you come from Brooklyn, so why should I be so surprised? Sleazy motels, flea-market couches and moth-eaten rugs are your forte."

Rufus stopped in his tracks for one moment and Chuck could gleefully observe that Rufus was itching to slug him one. Instead, Rufus continued on his walk with Chuck's snicker ringing in his ears.

* * *

Lily confessed to Bart that night and Bart immediately set divorce proceedings in motion. Eric was positively joyful and would have high-fived his mother if Serena hadn't glared at him.

* * *

"I have to move back with my mom," Serena whispered to Chuck as they lay together on his bed whilst Bart and Lily were arguing about possessions in the living room and Eric had escaped to Jenny's house.

Chuck sighed. "I know."

"I don't like it either—I rather liked the convenience of having you in the next room," Serena said, the sly look in her eyes alerting to Chuck what _kind_ of convenience she was thinking of.

"I will miss those benefits," Chuck replied, smirking as he kissed her lightly on the lips.

"But I will be around here as much as possible," Serena continued, her face becoming serious again.

"Good, but I won't go over to your's because it would just be awkward because your little shite of a brother despises me and since I caught your mom copulating with Humphrey, I think any semblance of a relationship I had with her is officially over."

This time it was Serena's turn to sigh as she ran her fingers through his hair. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, I'm no Yoda but as my uptight and anti-depressant pill popping school counsellor says, all we can do is just take one day at a time and beat back any fucker who wants to bring us under."

A whimsical smile spread over Serena's face and she turned herself on her side so she was facing him. "I love you, Chuck."

Chuck threaded his fingers through her free hand and kissed her deeply. "I love you too, Van der Woodsen," he said steadily, his cognac eyes warm and sincere without the trademark Bass smirk.

There were no overblown declarations of love, weeping or violins playing in the background. It was a simple fact that had long been felt between the two but had only been voiced for the first time.

The pair just lay together in uncharacteristically quiet contentment.

* * *

Lily married Rufus indecently quickly (one month to be exact) after her divorce and Serena was her matron of honour. It was a small, quiet affair in a quaint chapel in Brooklyn. Chuck did not attend. Nor was he invited.

* * *

One week later, Serena moved back into the Bass Penthouse. And what a change she wrought in the Bass household. She was such a breath of fresh air and vitality that even Bart's emotionless heart could not withstand her cheerful assault for long. In three days, she made him laugh—a feat that impressed Chuck who had probably made his father smile only three times in his adolescent life. Even Bart, a notorious grudge holder, could not hold any animosity towards the golden daughter of his adulterous ex-wife. How could he, when she just dazzled her way into the kitchen with her bright smile and easy laugh in the morning?

Just watching Serena bring Bart out of his taciturn and granite mood made Chuck grateful and loved her more than ever. Gone were the silent and awkward father-and-son meals. Now there was a new energy and life that reinvigorated the Bass family. And it was all because of Serena.

She was truly the eighth wonder of the world.

Three weeks later, Graduation happened.

By then, Blair and Nate had reconciled themselves to Serena and Chuck's relationship grudgingly and an uneasy truce lay between the quartet.

As Chuck walked onto the platform to accept his diploma (having surprisingly excelled), he found himself scanning the crowd for his father and silently castigated himself for allowing himself to foolishly hope his father would actually appear. The Archibalds, the Waldorfs and the Humphey-Van-de Woodsens were all present but his father was not. Everyone else had someone cheering for them, bursting with pride for them.

But not Chuck.

But then his eyes locked on Serena's and in her eyes, he saw her pride and her love and he realised there was someone who cared about him. Just because she was not blood related, it did not mean he was not alone. He grinned at her in his trademark Bass style that made her roll her eyes amusedly, blew her a kiss and then descended from the platform.

Life was only just beginning.

* * *

Later, as the crowds were dispersing, Serena spotted a familiar close-cropped grey-haired man covertly head to a black limo that was parked discretely by the neighbouring park.

"Bart!" she called.

Bart briskly continued his walk.

Serena rolled her eyes. God, these Bass men were exasperating.

She caught up with him. "Bart, stop!"

Bart halted. "Serena," he greeted her formally with no emotion in his face.

"Look, I'll cut to the chase. Why won't you let Chuck know you attended the ceremony today? It would mean a lot to him. You don't have to skulk in the shadows and lurk back to your limo like a thief."

Bart coolly raised an eyebrow, obviously not used to someone speaking so bluntly and tactlessly to him.

"Please, for Chuck's sake, please come back with me and join us for the lunch. I wish the two of you would break down that barrier between the two of you and let each other know how much you care about each other. I know how Chuck has always strode for your approval—his Victrola venture, his marks—but he has been too proud to admit that he cares what you think. Why do you think he turned to the womanising and the drinking? Because it was a way to get your attention. And—"

"Serena, stop," Bart said, holding up his hand and appearing as if he had a bad migraine. "Just stop."

Serena crossed her arms and waited for him to continue.

"I can't go in there."

"Why not?"

"Because Charles needs to learn to be self-sufficient. It is the only way he'll survive in this cut-throat world."

"Do you think turning up for your son's graduation is going to make him clingy and dependent on you?"

Bart's lips thinned.

"By the time we were all eleven, Chuck was the only one of us who knew how to travel solo, how to open his own bank account and how the _share market_ works, for goodness sakes! Now, he successfully manages Victrola. Does that not sound self-sufficient to you?"

Bart's eyes softened imperceptively. "You have to understand, Serena, that Charles will thank me in the long run."

"The _long run_?"

"Yes, the long run," Bart repeated, though there was less self-assurance in his tone.

"Please come up to the auditorium for the lunch. You don't even have to stay for the dessert. Just appearing will mean the world to him even though he won't admit it because he is just as stubborn as you."

Bart coughed and made a show of going through his digital planner. "I guess I can fit this lunch in before the meeting with GloboCorp at four pm," he said gruffly.

Serena bit back a smile. She had won. She had defeated Big Bad Bass.

Bart formally held out his arm to her. "Would you like me to escort you into the luncheon."

"It would be a pleasure," Serena replied, grinning.

When they arrived in the luncheon hall, she saw with secret satisfaction, Chuck's eyes briefly lighten at the sight of his father and then quickly settle into his traditional smirk. "Glad you could make it, father," Chuck said lazily, his eyes gleaming. "The school committee actually extended its budget this year and are supplying wine from the Loire Valley instead of dishwater rubbish from downtown Brooklyn."

Bart smirked. "Good. When I heard they decided to upgrade the refreshments, I decided it would be worthwhile to attend."

And father and son shared an unholy chuckle.

**Hope you all enjoyed this—I've decided to extend this story for another few chapters because of many requests for me to do so. Please review and tell me what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV**

"Blair and I have something to tell everyone!" Nate called above the din, standing on top of an antique chair and clinking a spoon against his wine glass.

The room immediately quietened and the upper crust of New York's society waited (impatiently—if the truth be told) for the Archibald heir to reveal his big news.

"What—that they've had sex?" muttered Chuck, rolling his eyes.

"You're gross," Serena responded.

"But incredibly appealing."

"Don't push it," Serena replied, struggling to keep a straight face.

Nate cleared his throat loudly and the couple turned their full attention upon the Royal Couple, Nate and Blair.

"Blair and I thought, since this is our Graduation Party, that this would be the best time to tell everyone that we are engaged!"

There was stunned silence. Then Serena broke the ice by flinging her arms impulsively around Blair and congratulating her which set the path for others to chime in with their own well-wishes.

Chuck clapped Nate on the back and said something in typical Bass fashion that made Nate roll his eyes but when he came to Blair, he did not really know what to say. He kissed her smoothly on the cheek. "Congratulations, Waldorf. The wedding that you've been planning since grade school is finally coming into fruition."

There was no customary barb from her. Instead, Blair stared at him for a moment and her society-demeanour dropped, allowing Chuck to see that she was not happy at all about her future wedding. "Yes," she said in a low voice. "It is."

* * *

Blair was not the only one who was less-than chipper at the celebration.

Serena had gone to the cloak room to reapply some make-up when she heard a rustle behind her. "Nice one, Chuck. I know it's you."

"It's me, Dan."

Serena snapped around. "What do you want?" she asked in an uncharacteristically terse voice.

"You," Dan whispered. "I made a big mistake with Vanessa and I really want you back."

"You have no right to say such things. I'm with Chuck now."

"So? I know you only got with him because I broke up with you. You know that it's supposed to be you and me forever."

"You are disgusting," Serena said coldly. "I'm with Chuck because I love him. That you can think I could use someone just to satisfy my own loneliness until you happen to rock along again, is pathetic. I don't need you anymore, Dan. Why do you think I moved out of the house after my mom married your dad? Because having to see you cast lover lorn looks at me day in and day out was becoming unbearable."

"If it's so unbearable, why are you still with him?"

"Unbearable in a bad way! Not because I'm desperately trying to fight my attraction to you! Get this through your head, Dan—I. Don't. Love. You. Anymore."

Dan grabbed her by the arm.

"Get off me!" Serena exclaimed, shaking his hand off.

"Please, Serena. You know how much I love you…if you just realise that…"

"No, Dan! No! It is over between us! In fact it's been over between us for a long time!"

"Serena—"

"_Get out_. _Now_."

"I—"

"_Now_."

Dan backed off and slammed the door behind him with a resounding clang. So engrossed was he with his current rejection by Serena that he did not notice the eagle-eyed Bart Bass emerging from the bathroom who had heard everything.

* * *

Chuck swallowed his martini and glanced around the ballroom, wondering where Serena had gone to. No sooner had he thought that, there Serena was, descending the grand stairwell clad in a blood red Dior mini-dress that showed off her long legs to perfection. Her eyes were suspiciously bright and her smile was a little too forced for his liking.

He curtly dismissed Kati and Isabel and weaved his way through the crowd to meet her.

She grasped his hand tightly. "Chuck, can we go somewhere private?"

Chuck would have replied with something sleazy just to see her blush and retort something, but upon seeing her flushed face and suspiciously wet eyes, he refrained from saying anything and merely nodded.

He led her to a more private corner of the ballroom to a set of deserted chairs and looked at her expectantly.

Serena took a deep breath. "Please don't get angry, but there's no other way to say this: Dan tried to make a move on me."

Chuck blinked. "Did I hear rightly? Cabbage Patch Junior attempted to accomplish what Cabbage Patch Senior managed to do with your dear mother?"

"Don't bring my mom into this."

"Where is that prick? I'm going to—"

"Chuck, don't. I only told you because I don't like keeping secrets from you. Just leave him alone—he's not worth your time because I love _you_. Not him."

Chuck's face softened a fraction, a rare vulnerability flashing across his face. "Really?"

Serena smiled warmly. "Really."

"But you know I still want to fracture that impeccably chiselled face of his."

"Just shut-up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Dan was sitting in a despondent slump on the sofa in the cloak room when a long shadow was cast on the fine Persian carpet.

"Daniel Humphreys," came a cold, emotionless voice that could only belong to one man.

Bart Bass.

Dan immediately stood up. "Mr. Bass."

"Sit back down, Mr. Humphreys. You and I need to have a little chat."

"You have no right to tell me what to do," said Dan defiantly.

Bart's eyes pierced him. "I'd advise you to do exactly as I say if you care about your little low-rent girlfriend—Vanessa, isn't it?"

"Your son ran to you, did he? Begged you to scare off his potential rival for Serena's hand."

Bart's lipped thinned. "He didn't tell me, I overheard Serena and you before. My son is not made of poor mettle, Daniel. I'd advise you to sit down _now_."

Dan sat back down, his eyes narrowed.

"I don't know what it is about the Van der Woodsen women that keep you Humphreys panting after them like mangy dogs, but it must certainly be something potent—"

Dan refrained from pointing out that the Bass men were not immune from the Van der Woodsen charm either.

"—but I frankly don't like it."

"Well that's too bad, Mr. Bass. It's not my fault that Lily chose my father over you," Dan said in a self-satisfied tone.

Bart's face became like granite and he stepped so close to Dan that for one minute, Dan thought that Bart was going to grab him by the shirt collar. "I'll only give you one warning and I expect you to adhere to it: stay away from Serena Van der Woodsen."

"Why should I?"

"Because, if you don't, I'll ensure that your cheap whore's future employment prospects are very dim indeed. She's applying for an internship at the Guggenheim Museum, isn't she?"

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I will, Mr. Humphreys. I don't make idle threats. I happen to be very close with the director of the Guggenheim—I helped him out of a spot of bother involving a rent boy, bondage and a videotape, so I'm sure he'd be quite happy to repay my kindness by fulfilling any request of mine."

"You-you—"

Bart chuckled malevolently. "Do you get the picture, Mr. Humphreys, or is your mind just as incoherent as your speech?"

Dan was practically shaking with anger. "Yes," he managed to utter through stiff lips, "Yes, I understand."

"Good because I will not allow you to ruin my son's happiness. And if I hear that you have tried to make one more move on Serena…" his voice trailed off, his meaning crystal clear.

"I'll back off," Dan said tonelessly. He knew he was beaten. As much as he loved Serena, he would not let Vanessa's future be ruined because of him.

Bart smiled in a predatory manner. "Good. I'm glad we've come to an understanding." Then he reached into his Armani suit pocket and pulled out a cheque. "And here is a tidy sum for the inconvenience. Maybe you could buy your Bohemian girl a set of paints or something, or you can drown your sorrows in fine wine."

"Keep your bloody money! I don't want one iota of it!"

"Manners, Mr. Humphreys, manners. Where's your gratitude?"

"You can shove that cheque up your arse!" he shot back and then he abruptly stood up and pushed past a coldly smirking Bart.

"Enjoy the evening, Mr. Humphreys!" Bart called out after him mockingly.

* * *

Later on, Chuck was in the bathroom washing his hands when he saw through the mirror the door open and Serena slip quietly in.

Chuck turned around to face her. "What are you doing here, Van der Woodsen? This is the boy's bathroom…or at least I thought it was," and as he spoke, his eyes darted to the sign on the door as if to reassure himself that he was indeed in the right bathroom.

Serena smiled slyly. "Don't worry, Chuck, we are in the boys bathroom."

Chuck smirked. "Are you trying to seduce me, Van der Woodsen?"

"Would it be completely slutty to say yes?"

No. I happen to find it incredibly sexy."

"Despite the fact we're in the men's bathroom?"

"Despite that fact. But I propose a way to amend that."

"What do you propose?" Serena murmured, sliding her arms around his neck.

"Well…I saw a perfectly good wine cellar…"

"That sounds kinky."

"But an attractive proposition, no?"

"Thoroughly attractive," a grinning Serena replied and pressed her lips against his.

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please review and tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Part V**

**Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I am just showing my appreciation for Gossip Girl. **

Eleanor Waldorf decided to throw her daughter an extravagant engagement party and invited the entire Upper East Side to the most fashionable (and expensive) French restaurant called J'Adore. The entire restaurant had been booked out and was decked out in white and silver decorations—from the tablecloth right down to the serviettes and flowers.

As Chuck entered J'Adore with Serena and Bart, he felt as if he had stepped into a Twilight zone and was almost blinded by the bright silverware and two chandeliers.

With Blair's usual compulsive control, she insisted that everyone dress in silver and white which is how Chuck found himself in a bright white suit and a flamboyant silver bowtie. Serena looked gorgeous in a short white strapless dress that highlighted her golden tan and hair, a silver Dior belt and killer silver heels with silver chandelier-like earrings. Bart wore a white dinner suit (due to considerable effort on Serena's behalf to even get him to discard his customary funereal black suit) but had gone for a black bowtie (being the complete opposite of his son who had a penchant for wild coloured suits and ties).

"Waldorf never does anything by halves," Chuck muttered.

Serena lightly pinched him. "Hey, this is her night—don't ruin it."

Chuck gave a long-suffering sigh, which earned him a reproving glare from both Serena _and_ Bart.

"Ah, Bart, Charles and Serena! Welcome!" Eleanor said in an unusually jovial tone. She then embraced Serena and shook the two Bass men's hands. "My daughter is by the stage with Nathaniel. She'll be pleased to see you made it."

Serena and Chuck moved on to where Blair and Nate were standing, leaving Bart to exchange perfunctory pleasantries with Eleanor.

"You look so sexy right now that I just want to ravish you," Chuck murmured in Serena's ear.

"I just might let you. Later," she grinningly replied, and unable to hold any annoyance against him, she pinched his bottom.

Chuck smirked. "I just might make a Bass out of you yet."

And a laughing Serena ducked out of the way waggling her finger at him before he could pinch her bottom back.

* * *

"And here are the happy couple!" drawled Chuck, clapping Nate on the back and inclining his head towards Blair.

"How droll of you, Bass," said Blair, raising an elegant eyebrow.

Chuck gave her a mock bow. "I aim to please, Waldorf—or should I say Archibald now?"

"Piss off, Bass," Blair responded witheringly.

"_You guys_," warned Serena. "Can the two of you just lay of each other for once?"

"Come on, honey. This is our engagement party," Nate softly chastised Blair, kissing the top of her head.

Chuck did not miss the way Blair's body stiffened at Nate's touch and by the paling of Serena she did not seem to miss it either.

"You're right, Nate," Blair agreed, pulling Nate to her for an unnecessary long and lingering kiss.

"I'm going to go and get a drink," announced Serena in a rather forced cheerful tone.

"I'll get one too," chimed in Chuck. "Some public displays of affection make me want to vomit."

"You're the one to talk, Bass," sniped Blair, rising for air from Nate's lips.

"Even the passionate embrace Nathaniel can't stop that mouth of yours. Actually, Nathaniel is a very lucky man to have a woman with a mouth such as yours—imagine the possibilities that you could lavish upon Nathaniel's body—"

"Come on, Chuck," sighed Serena, observing that Blair was going to swing a punch at him if Chuck was not immediately removed from her sight.

Chuck jauntily saluted to Nate and Blair, and allowed himself to be pulled over to the bar by Serena.

Serena tersely ordered a cosmopolitan and downed it in one quick shot.

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I'm sorry for the scene I caused—can you please just slow down with the drinks and tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

"It's not you, Chuck. God, I cannot stand the way she tries to make you jealous by practically sucking Nate's face off!"

"Listen to me, Serena: I am not interested in Waldorf one iota—you are the only girl for me. Her little public displays of affection do not rouse any envy in me at all. Why should it, when I have you?"

"Really?" softly asked Serena.

"Really."

Serena's face widened into that glorious smile that never failed to amaze him and she leaned over her barstool to press a lingering kiss on his lips. "Good," she whispered, "Because I don't share."

* * *

Bart was standing idly on the opposite end of the bar to his son and pretending to display interest to the Captain's (a.k.a. Howard Archibald) business proposition. In fact, Bart had no interest whatsoever in entering a joint financial venture with the incompetent coke snorting Captain who thought his addiction was secret, but Bart made it a habit to dig up every bit of information possible (the more sordid the better) on prospective business partners. Bart had not got to where he was today by being trusting and naïve. Ruthless, hard and focused was the way to make one's fortune. Everything else paled in comparison.

The Captain's wife, Anne, who Bart considered a simpering spouse and a domineering mother, stood by her husband's side and nodded vigorously at everything the Captain was saying.

Bart's inscrutable grey eyes hardened into flint at the sight of a heavily pregnant Lily, resplendent in a flowing white gown, laughing with that damned Rufus and a few other people. The sight of his ex-wife galled Bart and he could no longer stand to be even in the same room as her. It was a pathetic weakness that he despised himself for, but as much as he liked to tell himself otherwise, he had been deeply wounded by Lily's betrayal.

He took one last sip of his brandy. "Pardon me, Howard, but I'll have to excuse myself. A Cuban cigar is calling me."

The Captain appeared flustered. "But we'll speak about it on Monday?"

"Of course," Bart benignly responded, his face like a blank board that the Captain could not discern. He inclined his head to Anne and quickly strode out of the restaurant into the main foyer.

* * *

Chuck was sipping leisurely at his scotch when he saw some sort of commotion at the front entrance.

"Did Waldorf actually get Lindsay Lohan to make an appearance?" he drily asked Serena.

"Well B did say she had managed to get Adam Brody to accept an invitation, but somehow I don't think Adam Brody would dress in a white sari," responded Serena, pointing to the slim lady who waded through the crowd that parted for her like the Red Sea.

The lady was in her late forties with a thick head of luxurious brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders. Her face could not be defined as a classical beauty because of her sharp cheekbones, but it was her large mocha eyes framed by long dark eyelashes that made her striking.

"She's probably some washed up soapie star from one of those crappy shows that Waldorf loves so much…" but Chuck's voice trailed off as the woman walked closer to him. His eyes widened and he nearly spilled his half-full glass of scotch.

Serena's brow furrowed as she saw Chuck's face visibly blanch. Was this much older woman one of Chuck's past conquests?

The unnamed woman gracefully came towards Chuck like a white apparition treading through water. Chuck just stared at her.

"Well, aren't you going to say hello to your mother, Charles?" the woman asked in an amused tone.

* * *

After a much-needed fix of a Cuban cigar, Bart re-entered the restaurant. He wondered why people were casting conspiratorial looks at him. He then saw how the crowd had parted and were all facing the bar where he saw his son, flanked by Serena, in the company of a woman whose features Bart could not see.

Then the woman turned around and her gaze locked with his. Bart felt his body ricochet with a turbulent swirl of emotions. It was Misty, his ex-wife and the mother of his son. A surge of anger immediately replaced another emotion that he refused to name. How dare she arrive at such a public event after all this time and humiliate him? He could feel the avaricious eyes of the onlookers and with great effort, schooled himself into a granite emotionless being.

He strode over. "Misty, how kind of you to show up? Are you coming back for a handout to feed your habit?" he asked silkily.

Misty flushed. "Bart, please," she said in a low tone.

Bart glanced at his son who merely sat on his stool with a ramrod straight posture, his face blank. The only outward show of emotion was the way his fingers gripped his scotch glass and the way his knuckles were almost bursting through the skin.

For once, Bart was at a loss on how to handle the situation. If he dragged her outside with him and dumped her in the nearest taxi to the airport, it would create a delicious scene for all the gossipmonger onlookers. But if he just stood there in silence and benignly accepted Misty's presence, then Bart would appear to be unmanned and weak, and that was one reputation that Bart despised to even think of.

And then the most unlikely person saved the Basses.

Serena's brother Eric stood up on stage and grabbed a microphone. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I'd just like to welcome everyone to Blair Waldorf and Nathaniel Archibald's engagement party! To start off the night, the New York Symphony Orchestra's most popular quartet will play _Melusina_, which is a haunting melody and a favourite of Blair's. Please warmly welcome the quartet!"

Attention was immediately diverted from the Basses as the quartet struck up the chords of _Melusina_ and more champagne flutes were liberally distributed.

"I want you to leave _now_," Bart said, "Before you cause us anymore humiliation."

"I have not come back to wreak trouble. I have come back to see Charles—"

"You will not see Charles. You have no right to. I will bring the might of the judicial system down on you if that's what it takes to remove your odious stain from our lives."

"Just leave, mother," interjected Chuck in a dead voice. "You didn't seem to feel the need to see me for all these years and I doubt not seeing me for another half a century or more will make much of a difference to you."

Serena stood protectively beside Chuck, her body half-turned in to his as if she was shielding him.

Misty's eyes shifted between her ex-husband and son. "I understand that this is not the most opportune moment to re-appear in your lives, but please—"

Bart cut her off. "For you this was the most opportune moment for you. You always did love theatrics and being in the centre of attention—what better place to indulge your love of drama by turning up unannounced at an engagement party?"

"Please—"

"Just get out. Now," Chuck interrupted. "I don't want to see you and my father doesn't want to see you. Leave before this incident is posted all over the society pages."

Misty, to her credit, did not break down and weep. She lifted her chin defiantly and straightened her shoulders. "Well, I'll be in New York for some time as I've brought an apartment. If you change your mind, I'll be residing at this address," and she handed out a small white and gold embossed card to Chuck who did not extend his hand to receive it. He merely stared her down with an unnerving gaze. Misty then placed the card on the bar ledge next to her estranged son and with a swish of her extravagant sari, exited J'Adore.

Chuck picked up Misty's card and slotted it inside his suit pocket.

"Might be something useful to wipe my arse with later," he drawled.

Any observer of this little scene would have been fooled by Chuck's apparent lack of feeling toward his re-emerging mother but Serena was not fooled. She saw the trembling of his hand as he placed the card in his pocket and she knew that Chuck was far from okay about his mother.

There was a storm brewing ahead.

And it was going to consume everything in its path.

**End of Part V. Hope you all enjoyed it and I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. Please review and tell me what you all think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Part VI**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Gossip Girl. I'm just showing my appreciation for it.**

* * *

The morning after the infamous engagement party, Chuck stood outside on the balcony of The Palace and gazed down at the crawling hordes of New York traffic. It was a brisk, melancholy morning and the chilly air nipped at his nose and cheeks. He knew he should have draped on a warm coat and a scarf instead of his loose white shirt and black pants, but at that very moment, he did not care.

He itched for a cigarette and muttered a swear word that would be positively indecent to reprint here in textual form, when he realized his cigarettes and lighter were in his Armani jacket from last night. He gripped the bars of the balcony tightly and welcomed the numb feeling that crept up his fingertips.

The sliding door to the balcony smoothly opened behind him and his body relaxed when a familiar pair of long arms slid around his middle and a pleasant scent of Chanel No.5 wafted lightly in his nose.

Serena.

"You're going to catch your death out here, Chuck," she murmured in his ear. "And freeze off some vital parts of your lower anatomy."

"The way I'm feeling right now, I would heartily welcome that scenario," Chuck muttered.

"Hey, look at me," she softly urged him, her tender concern for him colouring every utterance that feel whisper-soft from her lips.

Chuck closed his eyes as if he were in great pain. He longed to curl away in his own box of solitary wallowing, cutting remarks and taunting smirks—his usual defence in the face of difficulty and crisis—but when could he deny Serena anything?

"_Please_."

Chuck sighed and turned in Serena's embrace to face her. She looked breathtaking in a body hugging red knit mini dress (if Chuck had been in a more amorous mood, the dress would have sent him into a heady intoxication of lustful thoughts), black tights, black ankle boots and a black jacket with furry cuffs and a hood. Her cheeks were already pink from the cold and her lips were a delicious cherry colour.

She stroked his face. "I thought I'd find you out here."

"I wasn't planning to throw myself off the balcony and splatter my innards on the road below, if that's what you were worried about."

Serena raised an eyebrow. "If you were planning on killing yourself, I can't see yourself choosing a path that would disfigure your perfect cheekbone structure and lean physique."

"Touché, Serena," he drawled, giving her a lingering kiss.

"Seriously now. What are you going to do about your mother?" asked Serena bluntly.

Chuck ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "I'm not going to see her."

"But don't you think you should see her to get some sort of closure about everything and—"

"God! I don't want anything to do with her!"

"_Sorry_," Serena replied, holding her hands up in defense.

Chuck took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself. "Look. I'm not lucky like you when it comes to family—I have an emotionally repressed father and a crack whore mother. I don't feel much except for a vague notion of filial obligation to my father. My mother can crawl back to whatever Betty Ford hole she rose from."

Serena flinched at Chuck's hard assessment of his family.

"You have to understand, Serena, that my mother left me when I was eight—coked up to the eyeballs and intoxicated. To her, I was an unfortunate accident that disrupted her social life and made her gain unwanted pounds before beach season. She may have loved me once—even my dad—but by the time she did a runner, I had learned some cold, hard truths about the world: first, that you can't invest too much in anyone because they'll ultimately betray you; and secondly, the institution of marriage is a grotesque farce."

Serena stepped back from him. "You believe that I will ultimately betray you? That marriage is a waste of time?"

"Look around you, Serena. My dad has been twice married, had countless of affairs. Your mum has been married what, five, or six times? Waldorf's dad skipped off with his gay fashion designer lover to France and Archibald's dad snorts coke while Mrs. Archibald turns a blind eye to his activities. Do any of those marital unions provide a positive example of domestic felicity?" challenged Chuck.

"I knew you were a cynic, Chuck, but I did not know that you were such a pessimist. What about us? Do you see no future for us? Do you see me cheating on you in a few years or becoming a drunk?"

Chuck shrugged and turned away from her, leaning his forearms on the balcony and deliberately concentrating on the traffic below.

"Fine!" Serena snapped. "You wallow in self pity out here on your own!"

Chuck did not reply.

"You know what, Chuck? If you keep walling people off, you'll end up alone and bitter—just like your father."

And with that, Serena left him standing alone with only the bleak morning wind for company.

* * *

Misty Bass stood out on her balcony, careless of the weather, in a flamboyant royal purple wrap. In the distance, she could see her ex-husband's towering hotel, The Palace, stand formidably against the Upper East skyline.

If she turned her head to the left, she would see another mark of Bart's domination, Bass Enterprises, which was even higher than the Palace with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. If Misty strained her eyes, she could see ant-sized people milling around the myriad of offices, each wrapped up in their own little lives, each subservient to the will of the man the financial columns and the society pages called the Big Bad Bass.

How far Bart Bass had risen.

Misty remembered a certain man when he was only twenty, arriving at a party with a sharp, perceptive gaze and an erect posture with his chin lifted as if he was silently challenging anyone to contest his right to attend an exclusive Upper East function. He was the outcast—nouveau riche (new money), her friends had derisively called him.

Misty could still recall with vivid clarity when she, only eighteen at the time, locked eyes with Bart, and immediately felt as if she had had the wind knocked out of her. Her heart had started thudding erratically and her cheeks heated. She was attracted to his remarkable self-possession and inscrutable grey eye. Her eyes traveled unashamedly down the rest of his body, taking in his lean figure and toned arms. He had seemed different to the other loud, obnoxious louts that fluttered around her like moths to an incandescent flame…

_She sauntered over to him, clad in a silky purple gown and purred, "How are you finding the party?"_

_He turned those expressionless grey eyes upon her and an indiscernible emotion briefly flashed across his eyes like a bolt of lightning in a dark sky. "Dull, pretentious, and tasteless," he drawled. _

_Misty, offended because she herself had helped prepare the event with her mother, snapped, "Who do you think you are? Do you think you're better than the rest of us?"_

_Bart took a sip of his champagne. "I guess I do," he said in a bored tone. _

"_You arrogant arse!"_

"_What a tongue you have, Misty. My, I hope your mother doesn't catch you using such unlady-like language."_

"_Why you-you—"_

"_Enjoy the party, Misty," Bart said lazily and he gracefully left her infuriated by the stairwell. _

Misty shook her head and tried to erase those memories.

Bart Bass. That indomitable force in her life. After their first meeting, he had sought her out at various social engagements. The two of them would end up invariably bickering. And then one night in the grand garden of yet another society gathering, three months after they had first met—arguing yet again—everything changed…

"…_if you think that being so aloof and composed makes you better than all us so-called inferior people, then why do you bother turning up at all? Why do you insist on seeking me out and infuriating me beyond measure? Why do you—"_

_Suddenly Bart pulled her roughly against him and bestowed upon her a deep and lingering kiss of such intensity and passion that Misty clung to him and melded her body against his. She did not care that they were in the grounds of a party and that someone could come across her, Misty Darnay, the only daughter of a banker whose ancestor had been a close confidante of President Lincoln, and Bart Bass, born into a family of nobodies (drunks, pimps and whores, so the gossips claimed) and was making waves in the business world, tipped to be the next business magnate. _

_She tugged roughly at his close-cropped hair and arched her body against his, responding with equal fervor to his kiss. She felt as if her senses had heightened to dizzying pitches as Bart's hands lightly caressed her hips, waist and stomach. _

_The two broke apart, each breathing raggedly. Bart held her face in his hands, his eyes no longer blank but mercurial now. It was like watching a tempestuous grey sea churning in his orbs. He was gazing at her with such intensity that Misty could hardly remember why she was shouting at him only a moment before. _

"_Do you see why I come to these wretched functions?" Bart asked hoarsely, sounding as if he had spent forty days wandering in a desert without water or any other sort of sustenance. _

_Misty struggled to get her breath under control. "Is this your idea of courting? Fighting constantly and then suddenly kissing me in a dark garden with no warning at all."_

_Bart smirked and brushed his lips across her jaw, making her heart splutter in response. "You didn't seem to mind."_

"_You are so…"_

"_Handsome? Debonair?"_

_Misty was fighting to keep a smile off her face. She had never seen him so light-hearted before. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Bass."_

_He nuzzled her neck and her eyes fluttered shut. "You are…" his voice trailed off. _

_She clasped her hands on either side of his face, wanting to kiss him again so much. "Exquisite? Earth shatteringly beautiful?" she mocked him. _

_He looked deeply into her eyes, the humour fading from them and becoming serious. "Do not mock me. You do not understand how different you are to those vapid society butterflies. You have passion, vivacity and fire."_

_Misty's heart felt so full at that moment. She was not able to verbalise how much it meant to her that he did not just compliment her on her appearance like so many admirers had done in the past. _

"_Thank-you," she huskily replied, her intoxicating mocha eyes communicating to him all that she could not express in words. _

_She stood up on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against his, neither of them needing any more words to say how they felt about each other._

Misty snapped herself out of her reverie. The past was the past. She had to rectify what she had damaged. She had paid dearly for her mistakes and straightened herself out—she was sober and drug-free for six years now.

And now she wanted Bart and Charles back.

* * *

Serena flopped on Eric's bed. "Can you believe he said that to me? That marriage is poisonous?"

"Hey, I hate to say this, but I think you're overreacting."

"_Excuse me_?"

"What I mean to say is," hastened Eric, "Is that Chuck is going through a hard time. His mother has just appeared out of nowhere and thrown his world into disorder. You know he has a screwed up family—his dad is a cold-hearted bastard and you've heard all the rumours about his mother. Some of them are pretty sordid. I once overheard mom telling Mrs. Waldorf that Mrs. Bass left because she felt so ashamed after sucking the cock of her drug dealer since Bart refused to give her money to fund her habit."

Serena rubbed her temple. "That is just disgusting, Eric. Don't ever repeat those rumours again—especially within Chuck's hearing."

"Sorry. But listen to me, sis. Chuck is going through a lot right now. He's just lashing out at you. I know and _you_ know, that he loves _you_, Serena. He's just angry and I think he's going to need you more than ever now. He's not lucky like you and me, sis. He has a crappy family and he's just being insecure."

Serena hugged her brother. "You're right. Wow. I never knew you to be so deep, little brother."

Eric rolled his eyes. "I'm really worried that I actually can penetrate the twisted and perverted thoughts of your beloved Chuck Bass. I think I need counseling."

Serena laughed and grabbed up her purse. "I better go and see Chuck now. Thanks, Eric."

Eric saluted at her. "Anytime, sis."

He dodged another attempt by Serena to hug him. She blew him a kiss instead and left to find Chuck.

* * *

All the lights were off in The Palace when Serena arrived back in the evening. Rain had started pouring down in thick slates across the windows and Serena was momentarily blinded by a crack of thunder that lit up the entire living room in an eerie white glow.

She observed a hunched figure of Chuck on the couch, cradling a glass of Scotch. He did not acknowledge her presence.

She softly padded over to him, flinging her purse carelessly onto the floor. She kicked off her boots and curled up next to him on the couch. He sat immoveable like a stone statue beside her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. "I was so insensitive to what you're going through. Whatever you want to do with your mother is your decision but just know that I am always going to be right here beside you."

A strangled sound erupted from his throat and his hand snaked out to clasp hers tightly. She squeezed his hand back reassuringly. She then felt his lips graze gently the crown of her forehead.

"I'm here for you, Chuck. I'm here for you," she reassured him in a quiet voice.

Chuck raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm, then enfolded it within his again and tucked her head under his chin.

And there they sat for an indeterminate time in the darkness, two figures joined together and ready to weather whatever Fate would thrust upon them.

**Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Sorry for taking so long to update and thanks very much for all your support and kind reviews! The next chapter will be updated next week. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Part VII**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Gossip Girl. I am just showing my appreciation for it.**

"She really is the most cutest thing I have ever seen," cooed Serena, cradling her newborn half-sister Chloe Rose Humphrey.

"I get to be the indulgent older brother," chimed in Eric, leaning over his sister's shoulder to get a better look at one-day old Chloe.

Lily squeezed Rufus' hand, still a little pale from the birth. "She looks exactly like you did, Serena, when you were born."

"She's perfect," Rufus said softly, his hand entwined with Lily's.

"Little Chloe is going to have four siblings," squealed Jenny. "Pass her to me, S. You're hogging her!"

Serena smiled at Jenny's bubbly state and carefully passed Chloe to Jenny, who let out another delighted squeal.

"Congratulations, dad and Lily," said Dan sincerely. "And I want to hold Chloe after Jenny. Hopefully Jenny doesn't suffocate her or deafen her with her constant glass-cracking squealing."

"Ha ha," good naturedly retorted Jenny.

"Chloe is going to have two brothers and two sisters to look out for her," Serena laughed.

Dan exchanged a tentative smile with Serena at her comment. Their relationship was gradually repairing but Serena knew that she could never regain the previous intimacy she had with Dan ever again. However, she could not begrudge Dan for long with his good nature and honesty. Besides, after seeing the shabby state of Chuck's family, it made Serena appreciate the extended family that she had and compelled her to make more of an effort to build some sort of relationship with Dan for the sake of her mother and little Chloe.

A soft knock on the door to Lily's exclusive hospital room suite turned Serena's attention from her newborn half-sister to the new visitor. It was an unusually tentative Chuck holding a large bouquet of lilies and carnations.

"Chuck," Serena greeted him with surprise. "Come on in!"

Serena had not expected Chuck to make an appearance because of the messy past involving Lily, Rufus and Bart. Chuck had told her it would too awkward to visit the new baby and he doubted he would be a welcome addition to the tight family circle. So to see him here at the hospital was a pleasant shock to Serena.

"Meet Chloe Rose," proudly introduced Serena, pointing to the small bundle in Jenny's arms.

"I hope I'm not intruding," said Chuck formally, his mocha eyes scanning the expression of each of the Van-der Woodsons and Humphreys.

Jenny half-turned her body from Chuck as if she was shielding Chloe from him. Rufus and Lily exchanged looks.

"I got these for you, Mrs. Humphrey," continued Chuck, awkwardly holding out the bouquet to Lily.

Serena shot her mother a beseeching expression to be kind to Chuck.

"Thank-you, Charles," responded Lily gracefully. "Lilies and carnations are my favourite flowers. It is very kind of you to visit us."

Chuck inclined his head in reception of her compliment.

Lily turned her head to Jenny. "Jenny, let Charles have a turn at holding Chloe. Since he came all the way here with this beautiful bunch of flowers, I think he is quite deserving to."

"But—"

"_Jen_," warned Rufus.

"It's fine. Babies and I don't mix. I'll probably drop her or something," hurriedly intercepted Chuck.

"I doubt you will do that," Lily said serenely.

Eric sharply nudged Jenny. With bad grace, Jenny gave Chloe to Chuck. Serena stifled a laugh when she saw how stiffly he held the baby as if Chloe was a bomb that would explode in his arms if he made so much as a wrong move.

Chloe made a mewling sound in his arms and a happy gurgle erupted from her throat. A brief look of awe filtered through Chuck's face that Serena and Lily did not miss, which he then quickly hid beneath his customary exterior of Bass smugness.

Lily smiled softly for she always had felt sympathy for Chuck. "You see, Charles? You have not dropped her yet, nor has she sustained any severe trauma. It appears that she quite likes you."

Chuck coughed. "Once she gets older, she'll change her mind."

"I'll say," muttered Jenny, her dislike for Chuck evident. She had still not forgiven him for trying to forcibly come onto her two years ago when she had been severely intoxicated.

Eric nudged her again.

"Ow," complained Jenny, rubbing her arm. "Would you stop doing that?"

"It's okay, Eric. Little J's barbs are actually quite amusing," drawled Chuck, his eyes never moving from Chloe's face. "Her feelings for me are heartily reciprocated."

"_Guys_," cautioned Dan. "Can the both of you stop sniping at each other?"

Jenny rolled her eyes but did not argue.

"I have to say, Chuck, that a baby looks quite fetching on you," teased Serena, trying to defuse the tension. She kissed his cheek. "I find it quite sexy."

"Ew," shuddered Eric. "Get a room, Serena."

Serena playfully stuck her tongue out at him.

Chuck gave Chloe back to the safe embrace of Lily's arms. "I should go." He picked up his coat. "Congratulations to all of you."

He kissed Serena on the lips and she murmured against his lips, "I'll see you tonight at the Palace, 7pm?"

Chuck nodded his assent and quickly departed the hospital room.

"Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say that I certainly did not expect Chuck Bass of all people to rock up here with flowers," spoke Rufus, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Serena was about to open her mouth and defend Chuck but was stopped by Rufus' next words:

"But hey, I'm not complaining—he has great taste in flowers."

* * *

Chuck slumped into the backseat of the limo and loosened his bowtie, feeling as if he were slowly suffocating. It had been unbearable in that hospital room and being surrounded by all that sickening family love and support that practically pulled him under like an undertow. Envy seeped into every crevice of his heart.

The memory of the warm, petite and defenceless Chloe in his arms had stirred him deeply. Looking into her innocent eyes, he felt as if he was some sort of guardian and had been filled with such an urge to protect her that he nearly choked on what he felt, which was why he left the hospital after such a short period of time.

He had not missed the looks of sympathy from Lily and Serena and Chuck had always despised sympathy or pity. He was a Bass. He had been schooled from the cradle to dismiss pity and sympathy because those sentiments weakened and emasculated a man. Indeed, Bart had mercilessly instilled in Chuck the idea of natural selection: only the strong survived and the weak withered and died like a fragile seedling being strangled by the frost.

His mother had left him and his father kept him on the peripheral of his life like a toy that was only occasionally taken off the shelf, but Chuck was still standing. He had defied his father's reasoning and had found happiness that he had never thought possible with Serena. In a couple of years, he could be free from both his parents and shake off the odious stain that they had imprinted upon him.

His hand suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out the card that his mother had given to him two weeks ago. He ripped up the card, wound down the window, and tossed the shreds out that flew into the windy New York breeze like delicate wings.

Chuck's chauffeur, Raj Kumar, raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Bass, would you like me to turn back?"

"Continue on, Raj," Chuck calmly asserted, gesturing with his hand.

Raj nodded and the Bass limo purred on, leaving the shreds of Misty's card to fall onto the gutter.

* * *

Misty sipped an orange juice, refusing to slip into her old habits of booze and drugs. Charles had still not visited her and Bart had barred her from entering The Palace or Bass Industries. The both times she had tried to visit, she had humiliatingly been escorted off both premises by security guards.

When she had seen Charles for the first time, she had been struck with the similarity he bore to Bart. His features were so sharp, his posture impeccable and his eyes inscrutable. The only time she saw him thaw was with Lily's daughter. She realised that she was more like Bart than she thought for she had hidden her emotions behind a façade of cruel or superficial words. Indeed, the first words out of her mouth to Chuck had been jaunty and flighty and Misty mentally cringed at the memory.

Her servant Eloise quietly entered the room. "Mr. Bass is in the entrance hall," she intoned in a flat voice.

Misty nearly choked on her juice. "Show him in."

She rearranged her purple sari on the couch and feigned a nonchalant pose.

"Misty," Bart greeted her emotionlessly.

"Bart."

Eloise loitered by the door with inquisitive eyes.

"Leave us!" Misty imperiously commanded, gesturing for Eloise to depart.

Eloise muttered something under her breath and sourly shut the door behind her.

"You should really think of firing that girl. She seems sour and bad tempered," Bart commented.

"Bit rich coming from you, who seems to be the poster boy for emotional repression."

"I did not come down here to argue with you."

"Then why did you come?" challenged Misty. "To hand out tips on my domestic servants or for running an efficient household?"

"How much will it cost for you to go away and leave my son and I in peace?" Bart asked bluntly.

"_Pardon_?"

Bart calmly got out his chequebook and his Mont Blanc pen and spoke to her as if she were a small child. "_I said_, how much will it take for you to—"

"I heard what you said!" Misty snapped.

"Then how much?"

"I don't need your money. I'm staying here until you and Charles acknowledge me."

"Well you might be waiting around for an awful long time. Surely one hundred grand will be enough for you to fund your drug and alcohol habit?"

Misty clenched her fists. "I have been sober and drug-free for six years now."

Bart's eyes flashed. "Well, what were you doing then for the other five years that you ran off for?"

"In and out of rehab, passed out in drunken stupors in the street…"

Misty could see that Bart was practically strangling his chequebook as the white of his knuckles was pressing through his skin. "You have hurt and humiliated me beyond measure, Misty. How dare you flounce back here expecting that Charles or I will receive you with open arms? You are wasting my time and yours with this little charade. Just name me a sum and I shall hand it over to you."

"You know why I got onto drugs, Bart. If it wasn't for the death of—"

Bart thrust a finger in her face, breathing raggedly. "Don't you _dare_ use that-that _event_ as an excuse for your weakness. Millions of women have lost their—"

"Child, Bart. _Child_," Misty whispered.

Bart's eyes were burning into her. "I lost her too, Misty. She was my child too. Did you see me drink myself into oblivion because of her death?"

"By God, Bart! You just shut yourself off from Charles and I! You immersed yourself in work and left me _alone_. Our little Rose was just two months old when she died of SIDS. Charles was only two at that time…"

"I'm not revisiting the past, Misty. I only came here to talk about the future," said Bart thickly, his face turning away from Misty for a moment as if he had to regain the infamous Bass super-composure again.

"Bart, I want you to know that I never did give sexual favours to that drug dealer when I left you. I only said that so you would leave me alone and let me get away."

"Now I feel _so_ much better," Bart caustically responded, his face bland again like the conversation about their dead daughter had never occurred.

Misty reached out to him, desperation suddenly filling her. She wanted him to understand that she had never been unfaithful to him, only that she had been so consumed by demons that the only way of cleansing herself had been to leave the Upper East Side. "Bart, please…"

Bart batted off her hand. He almost stumbled back. "You-you…"

Misty arose from the couch like a water nymph, her purple sari pooling around her and her hands outstretched. "Bart …"

Bart let out a strangled sound. Misty stepped closer to him. His chest rose and fell heavily. Their eyes were locked on each other: his stormy grey versus her tempestuous mocha. Misty's eyes were suspiciously wet and a choked sob erupted from her when she felt Bart's left hand run his hand through her hair. She traced his face, her fingers lightly running over the lines that had been harshly etched into his granite face. He gazed at her like he was a parched man that had just been rescued from the desert.

"_Bart_," she breathed.

A crash from the other room broke the hypnotic spell that had drawn the two of them together in a heady mixture of intoxication. Bart jolted away from her as if he had been burned and Misty immediately felt a hole where he had been.

A confliction of emotions battled for supremacy on Bart's face as he yanked up his briefcase and his coat. "If you think that you can get your way by using your body against me, then you are very wrong. I almost fell for it but—"

"I'm not trying to 'use my body' to get my way as you so crudely put it!" Misty exclaimed, her eyes flashing with indignation. "Bart, there is still something between us—that moment before proves it."

"It proves nothing," Bart retorted bitingly. "Nothing. You have always been a talented actress and this little episode merely proves it. I know that you and I are similar in that we are willing to go to any lengths to achieve what we want. Thus, I'm going to use all my powers to prevent you from disrupting Charles' life—do you understand?"

Misty laughed mockingly. "I'm more than ready to meet your little challenge, Bart."

"I'm warning you," coldly advised Bart and he stalked out before Misty could reply.

* * *

Meanwhile, Chuck arrived at his father's office at Bass Enterprises. His father's secretary, Mrs. Ingham, who had a dry sense of humour and had been the one who had turned up to his school events in the place of his father, was typing something on the computer.

"Charles, your father isn't here at the moment."

Chuck shrugged. "I've just got to retrieve some reports for him," he bare-facedly lied.

Mrs. Ingham raised an eyebrow. "And my name is Barbie. What do you really want from Mr. Bass' office?"

Chuck smirked. "I just came in here to be dazzled by your radiant face and worship you."

"Charles Bass, I hardly doubt you've come to worship an old crone like me."

Chuck sniggered. "You underestimate your powers of beauty."

"I'm sure I'm not," Mrs. Ingham responded drily. "Go into Mr. Bass' office you silver tongued man."

Chuck flashed his most charming smile. "You won't regret it."

Mrs. Ingram shooed him in, vainly suppressing a smile.

Chuck closed Bart's office door behind him and flung himself into his father's high-backed leather armchair, sticking his feet on the desk. Bart's study was almost inhumanly neat and devoid of any personal touch. The only picture was a skyline of New York at night. Not one picture of Chuck graced the walls.

Chuck lazily opened each of the desk drawers in order to find his father's collection of Cuban cigars. When he opened the third drawer, he rifled through a bunch of meaningless papers, thinking that the box was hidden under it. He was sadly mistaken and instead, found a small leather pouch. A smirk crossed his face, thinking that Bart had a secret stash of marijuana.

However, when he opened the pouch, he found six photos tied up with a pink ribbon. Chuck's heart pounded as he went through each photo. The first was of Misty and Bart as young adults, probably when they were first going out. It was taken at the beach in Miami. Misty was in a revealing fuchsia bikini and encircled in the arms of Bart who was in a pair of black trunks. The two of them were smiling and gazed at each other as if they were the only people in the world.

The second was of Misty holding a newborn Chuck in the hospital bed with a wide, dazzling smile on her face. The third was of Chuck when he was six years old and dressed in a black tux. The forth was of Chuck at thirteen, garbed in a white suit and standing on the podium beside Bart at the opening of a London branch of Bass Enterprises. The forth was of Chuck delivering a speech at the opening of his burlesque club Victrola and clipped to the photo was a bunch of newspaper clippings that raved in glowing terms about Victrola.

At that, Chuck's eyes widened. His father had never congratulated him about successfully running Victrola and had only uttered a few words of benign, detached advice. He could not believe that his father even bothered to keep newspaper clippings, let alone any photos of him.

The fifth photo was of Chuck and a glorious Serena at the second anniversary of Victrola. Serena was drop-dead gorgeous in a black lacy dress with a plunging neckline that clung to her every curve and flared out at her waist, reaching just above her knees. On her feet were black stilettos and a red rose pinned back her golden curtain of hair. Chuck was debonair in a black and white suite. His arm was around her waist and their eyes were only focused on each other. Chuck had whispered something slyly in her ear (Chuck could not remember what) and the photographer had caught the moment perfectly as Serena cracked up with laughter, her back leg kicked up and her hand by her scarlet mouth.

His brow furrowed in puzzlement when he came to the last photo. It was of Misty holding a baby swaddled in pink. Bart was perched on the bed with a toddler-aged Chuck sitting on his lap, entranced by the baby in Misty's arms. Chuck had never seen the baby before. Who the hell was it? Chuck flipped the photo over and saw that Bart had written in his elegant Victorian-era script: _Misty, Charles, Bart and Rose. _

_Rose_? Chuck's mouth became dry. Was Rose his sister? What had happened to her? He slipped the photo into his suit pocket and was unable to shake the image of Misty and Bart staring at each other with uncommon adoration, Bart's arms wrapped securely around Chuck and a brightly smiling Chuck himself reaching out with a chubby arm to touch the newborn Rose.

His desire for a Cuban cigar had long since faded and the office suddenly felt constricted and confined. He had to get out. He stuffed the leather pouch—minus the photo in his suit pocket—back into the drawer where it was originally kept and abruptly slammed the office door behind him, his mind swirling with questions.

Mrs. Ingram's head snapped up, her brow creased. "Can't find your father's cigar collection?"

"Something like that," Chuck muttered and strode out of the office before Mrs. Ingram could ask any further questions.

* * *

Serena came back to The Palace at 7pm exactly. She found Chuck at the mini bar with a glass of Scotch.

"Hey," she softly greeted him, coming up behind him and rubbing his shoulders.

"Hey," he responded, twisting around on his stool to give her a deep welcoming kiss.

She stroked his face. "Thank you for visiting my mother and Chloe today. It meant a lot to me."

His hands ran up and down her hips. "No problem."

Serena leaned her body into his, her whole body weight pressed against his. He kissed her with an almost urgent fervency and Serena responded enthusiastically, her mouth opening under his and her hands in his hair, around his neck and then running up and down his arms and shoulders.

When they both had to come up for air, Serena rubbed her cheek against his. "Are you okay?"

Chuck sighed. "I found this photo in my dad's office."

"What photo?"

He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the photo and showed it to her.

Serena frowned at the inscription on the back. "Rose?"

"Yeah. I think she was my sister."

"Your sister?"

"Apparently. Unless she was a model baby that they used for a promotional product for Bass Industries."

"What does your dad say?"

Chuck shrugged, his thumb twirling idle circles on Serena's palm. "I haven't told him that I've found it."

Serena placed light kisses on his forehead, eyelids and cheeks, and finally sought his mouth for a lingering kiss. "Oh, Chuck," she murmured. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not much," Chuck responded, his mouth quirked in a strained smirk. "I'll have to ask him myself."

Serena's ever-giving and selfless heart lurched at the pain that she saw Chuck was desperately trying to hide under a cover of sarcasm and feigned indifference. "Come to bed," she said in a low tone, smiling gently at him.

"Serena Van der Woodsen offering sympathy sex?" Chuck drawled, his eyebrow raised. "This is new."

Serena rolled her eyes. "As if, pervert."

"A man can dream."

"Seriously, we can talk or…"

"Have sex?" finished Chuck, stroking her cheek.

"_Chuck_."

"Your offer sounds good. I think I might need a brain transplant, but talking sounds nice."

Serena gave him a half-grin. "Something must be wrong if Chuck Bass is sacrificing sex for talk."

"Must be. I need to decide what I'm going to do with this information."

Serena got up and held out her hand to which Chuck gratefully held onto, like she was a bulwark to keep afloat on whilst all else slid into oblivion. "Come to bed," she repeated.

Chuck silently allowed her to lead him to his bedroom.

**Hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and tell me what you think!**


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